BANCROFT 
LIBRARY 

•o 

THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 


t, 

The  Time,  The  Place 

and 

The  Girl 


Ey 

Be  a  Boston 


Yellowstone  Park  Publishing  Co. 

CHICAGO 

1908 


Copyright,    1908, 
BY 

H.  B.  MAC1L.I 


ALL   RIGHTS    RESERVED 


FOREWORD. 

The  Time,  The  Place,  and  The  Girl  has  for 
its  background  the  wild,  romantic  region,  of 
Wyoming,  known  as  the  Yellowstone  National 
Park.  This  Park  contains  the  most  magnifi- 
cent scenery  in  all  the  world,  and  is  properly 
styled  "Yellowstone,  the  Masterpiece  of  Crea- 
tion." 

Here  was  founded  in  a  romantic  way  a  story 
in  which  the  principals  on  their  way  through 
the  "Land  of  Geysers"  met  and  were  united 
(it  being  another  case  of  "love  at  first  sight") 
at  the  expiration  of  the  sixth  day  while  at  the 
Grand  Canon  Hotel— the  last  hotel  on  the  cir- 
cuit. 

As  there  is  no  connection  whatever  between 
this  story  and  the  "play"  which  met  with 
such  tremendous  success,  a  word  or  two  of  ex- 
plantation  will  not  be  amiss,  inasmuch  as  it  is 
not  the  wish  or  intention  of  the  author  to  de- 
ceive or  defraud  the  reader  hi  any  sense  of  the 
word. 

The  illustrations  are  by  special  permission 
and  courtesy  of  A.  M.  Cleland,  G.  P.  A.  St. 
Paul,  while  the  cover  design  is  the  courtesy  of 
the  Haynes  Studio. 

The  Author, 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Leaving  Gardner  Station  for  Wonderland 

Mammoth  Hot  Springs  Hotel. 

Among  the  Pines. 

Fountain  Hotel,  Lower  Geyser  Basin. 

Old  Faithful  Inn,  Upper  Geyser  Basin. 

Old  Faithful  Geyser. 

Interior  View  of  Old  Faithful  Inn. 

Lake  Colonial  Hotel,  Yellowstone  Lake, 

Grand  Canon  Hotel. 


THE  TIME  ....  SUMMER. 
THE  PLACE  .  YELLOWSTONE  PARK. 
THE  GIRL  NELL. 


Mammoth  Hot  Springs  Hotel,  Wyo., 

August  1st,  190—. 
Dear  Billy  :- 

The  real  Radium  is  here,  from  down  East, 
stopping  at  the  Capitol  of  the  Park,  a  regular 
"Midsummer  Night's  Dream"  and  a  live  wire 
over  which  your  Uncle  Dudley  fell  head  over 
heels  into  the  cistern,  although,  sure  as  preach- 
ing, I  haven't  touched  a  drop  of  the  Oil  of  Joy 
for  thirty-seven  days.  My  pipe's  out  this  after- 
noon, leaving  the  tangled  thoughts  and  sur- 
rounding scenes  clear  to  mind  and  soul,  for 
here  inspiration  catches  you  unawares  and  Cu- 
pid's barbed  arrows  fly  thick  and  fast,  one  of 
which  punctured  the  silken  gossamer  around 
my  pumping  station  just  full  of  holes.  How  it 
all  happened  I'll  tell  you  later,  and  of  this 

9 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

beautiful  buxom  girl  of  twenty  summers,  who 
hails  from  "The  Beanery"  near  the  first  touch- 
down of  the  Pilgrims. 

On  the  veranda  seated  opposite  to  me  was  a 
Study  in  Brown,  gazing  towards  Mount  Everts, 
or  the  Cleopatra  Terraces,  or  possibly  her  dark 
brown  optics  were  fastened  upon  the  approach- 
ing Form  of  Blue  from  the  army  Post— Fort 
Yellowstone— where  is  stationed  the  Sixth  U.  S. 
Cavalry  across  a  quadrangle  of  green  velvet 
formed  by  the  parade  ground.  The  latter  guess 
was  the  right  one  and  proved  to  be  the  Key  to 
the  Situation. 

The  gallant  army  officer,  General  Smiley, 
(whom  I  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  after- 
wards) advanced  with  his  lid  off  and  saluted 
the  girl  with  the  silk  rattlers  with  much  ado. 
Right  here  my  number  was  23. 

"A  very  delightful  afternoon/'  spoke  the 
commandant  of  the  fort.  "Perfectly  charming, 
indeed,"  was  the  noise  piped  by  this  female 
Yankee,  as  she  extended  her  tiny  lily  white  to 
the  man  with  brass  buttons. 

10 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

It  was  checkers  with  me,  and  as  I  was  leav- 
ing the  enchanted  view,  inspiring  strains  from 
Nurnberger's  orchestra  filled  the  air  with  har- 
mony, while  the  spheres  themselves  answered 
the  inspiration  with  its  echoes  from  the  silent 
sentinels  and  distant  peaks  with  eternal  white 
caps.  The  scene,  the  music,  the  girl,  all  served 
to  intoxicate  me  and  set  my  heart  fluttering, 
and  my  feet  slipping  in  their  tracks. 

That  same  evening  General  Smiley  (a  most 
congenial  and  accommodating  gentleman)  led 
me  through  the  gateway  of  an  introduction  to 
this  human  dream  with  form  Divine.  Directly 
in  front  of  me  at  the  table  was  seated  the  Gen- 
eral and  to  his  right  the  girl  who  caused  such 
an  internal  disturbance  with  me.  This  Gibson 
girl  with  hair  a-la-Marcelle  had  Venus  beaten 
into  a  pulp. 

1  'Miss  Miller,  permit  me  to  introduce  to  you 
my  friend — Mr.  Boston  from  the  windy  City  by 
the  Lake." 

"Charmed  to  meet  you,  indeed,"  were  the 

bon-bons  she  handed  to  me 

11 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

'•'The  pleasure  is  all  mine/'  was  the  ozone  I 
infused  into  her  ears.  This  queen  bee  was  the 
limit  for  politeness — her  ways  were  winsome — 
soft,  silky  and  smooth,  to  which  no  true  sport 
could  file  a  bill  of  exceptions  and  remain  a 
devotee  of  the  game. 

The  dinner  over,  the  General  begged  to  be  ex- 
cused as  he  hurried  to  his  office  in  answer  to  a 
telephone  call,  which  left  the  gates  ajar  for  this 
summer  girl  and  myself  to  become  better  ac- 
quainted. 

"These  culminating  points  of  nature's  beauty 
are  splendid  monarchs  guarding  silently  the  en- 
trance to  the  'Land  of  Geysers,'  '  spoke  the 
dame  with  the  brown  orbs  that  flashed  meteoric 
messages  which  could  not  be  misunderstood. 

' '  And  the  one  in  which  I  am  particularly  in- 
terested is  officer  of  the  day,"  whereupon  I 
transferred  the  rose  from  my  garden  to  hers, 
saying,  "The  petals  contain  my  innermost  se- 
cret." 

"Yes,"  came  the  sweet  reply  with  a  naughty 
12 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AXD  THE  GIRL. 

little  twinkle  in  her  eye,   "and   I'll   guard  it 
carefully  all  the  way  through  the  Park." 

My  cardiac  was  working  overtime;  my  win- 
dows were  dimmed  from  the  hot  vapor  she 
vented ;  my  soul  was  on  fire,  which  conveyed  to 
the  engineer  in  charge  of  my  pumping  station 
that  I  really  was  the  king  bee  with  Nell,  so 
named  from  Old  Drury. 

This  glorious  running  start  and  grand-stand 
play  compelled  me  to  unharness  the  blonde 
bales  before  we  reached  the  Upper  Basin.  I 
could  not  play  close  to  my  belt  and  hope  to 
come  out  winner  with  the  pencharina  from  the 
Hub.  Nell  asked  me  if  I  would  like  to  prom- 
enade down  to  the  Terraces — meaning  Minerva, 
Jupiter  and  Pulpit  Terraces — and  listen  to  the 
sermons  from  the  purling  hot  streams  as  they 
flow.  "They  might  interest  you  later  on." 

"It  affords  me  the  greatest  of  pleasure,  I  as- 
sure you/'  not  noticing  her  repartee. 

"Do  you  propose  to  ride  all  alone  through  the 
Park?"  queried  this  superb  artist  with  the  three 
P's — paint,  powder  and  pencil. 

13 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AXD  THE  GIRL. 

That  was  all  the  hunch  I  needed  to  buckle 
Nell  on  to  my  belt. 

"Not  if  I  have  your  kind  permission  to  be 
seated  aside  of  you  on  the  coach,"  came  the 
quick  reply.  It  was  my  opener  with  Nell. 

"You  may  have  it,"  was  her  sweet  response, 
and  from  which  remark  I  became  corpulent  and 
chesty,  actually  forcing  my  collar  button  from 
its  fastenings,  and  compelling  me  to  hunt  the 
hay  for  the  night. 

At  eight  o'clock  the  next  morning,  which 
was  bright  and  clear,  we  were  ready  for  the 
Coaching  Trip  and  climbed  into  the  front  seat 
with  the  driver  of  the  four-in-hand  who  was 
in  charge  of  the  huge  but  comfortable  Concord. 

"We're  off  in  a  bunch,"  said  the  driver,  and 
he  cracked  his  long  whip  in  the  air  as  the  coach 
went  rolling  on  its  way  to  Wonderland. 

"Isn't  it  just  glorious  to  behold  these  natural 
filters  (meaning  the  untainted  hills  of  the 
Rockies),  such  a  grand  opportunity  for  a  good, 
healthy,  honest,  old-fashioned  recreation," 

14 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

chirped  my  side  partner  with  the  peek-a-boo 
waist. 

"Perfectly  sublime,"  was  the  steam  that  left 
my  volcano  as  we  made  a  turn  in  the  road, 
threading  our  way  and  galloping  through  the 
Silver  and  Golden  Gates  without  stopping  for  a 
fizz  as  a  quencher,  into  the  beautiful  Swan 
Lake  valley,  where  the  ladies  come  from  all 
parts  of  the  world  to  develop  swan  like  necks. 
Here  we  saw  the  beautiful  Electric  Peak  and 
the  Gallatin  Range.  Passed  up  the  side  trip 
to  Bunsen's  Peak  on  account  of  the  "blow 
pipes"  and  not  wanting  to  blow  the  bunch. 
The  ride  through  Willow  Park  was  like  a  trip 
intoi  fairyland.  Here  "The  Campers"  make 
their  first  all-night  stand  and  build  their  big 
log  fires,  sitting  around  which  they  tell  stories 
of  adventure,  experience,  etc.,  sing  a  few  songs 
and  then  pile  in  for  a  refreshing  slumber  among 
the  pines,  in  comfortable  compartment  tents. 

Beautiful  Apollinaris  Spring  now  greeted  our 
vision,  followed  by  the  great  cliffs  of  natural 
Obsidian  glass.  On  this  volcanic  glass,  Billy, 

15 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

neither  drills  nor  dynamite  made  an  impression, 
as  the  dark  brown  substance  resisted  the  efforts 
of  the  engineers  until  fires  were  built  against 
these  walls  of  solid  glass.  Sheltered  behind 
wet  blankets  (ever  have  the  wet  blanket  thrown 
on  you,  Billy?),  the  crews  dashed  water  upon 
the  heated  surface,  causing  the  glass  to  crack 
and  crumble  into  pieces,  and  the  way  was  suc- 
cessfully cleared  for  the  road  bed.  We  passed 
the  placid  waters  of  Beaver  Lake  and  Bearing 
Mountain  (which  is  a  hillside  of  a  thousand 
whistles  from  Hell),  the  Devil's  Frying  Pan 
and  numerous  sulphurous  springs,  which  keep 
the  pan  hot  for  the  next  fellow.  At  noon  tide 
we  reached  Norris  Geyser  Basin,  where  lunch 
was  served  prior  to  the  continuation  of  our 
jaunt  through  "The  Park  of  Parks,"  reaching 
the  first  hostelry  at  five-thirty,  where  a  delight- 
ful repast  was  served  and  enjoyed  by  all  of  the 
tourists,  and,  in  turn,  by  a  restful  night's  sleep. 
Good  night,  Billy. 

Yours  as  ever, 

Ben  Boston. 

17 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

Fountain  Hotel,  Lower  Geyser  Basin, 

\ugust  2nd,  190—. 
Dear  Billy:- 

Arrived  here  a  little  dismantled  but  still  in 
the  ring,  with  two  up  and  one  to  go — that's  me 
with  the  lemon.  T  suppose  you  have  had  one 
handed  to  you  by  this  time  from  the  fair  fraud 
who  lives  in  the  country  near  the  Bucks  county 
line.  Tt  seems  to  delight  the  souls  of  the  de- 
scendants of  Eve  to  squirt  the  juice  of  this  fruit 
into  one's  eyes  nowadays,  just  to  see  the  tears 
roll,  even  if  he  is  not  sorry  for  having  broken 
her  heart  or  circulated  her  coin. 

At  the  hotel,  Billy,  we  were  watched  by  the 
gossips,  a  few  of  whom  said  I  was  a  foreign 
nobleman;  others  took  me  for  Mantell,  but  one 
eagle-eyed  old  maid — probably  a  school  teacher 
from  Chicago — positively  stated  that  I  was 
Packie  McFarland,  with  whom  I  would  sooner 
take  the  fatal  count  in  advance,  or  take  the 
Osier  route,  than  put  on  the  six  ounce  mitts  for 

19 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

a  Queensbnry  function  and  wait  for  the  gong. 

That  night  I  put  on  some  agony  so  that  I 
could  butt  in  at  the  hop;  wore  my  registered 
collar  so  that  if  I  got  lost  in  the  whirl  I  would 
come  out  all  right  in  the  wash  and  be  returned 
later  as  missing  on  first  delivery. 

Well,  I  had  a  swell  time  in  the  whirl  of  point 
lace  and  diamonds  and, — well,  Nell  was  sweat- 
ing like  a  June  bride-to-be  from  sheer  nervous- 
ness, seeing  me  on  the  glide  with  a  winner  who 
had  a  creamy  complexion  and  kinky  chemical 
curls.  This  reversed  blonde  of  nature  was  lit- 
erally covered  with  jewels — whether  near-dia- 
monds I  was  not  able  to  judge,  because  if  I  got 
a  peep-in  at  them  she  might  have  told  me  to 
mind  my  own  business — which,  for  her  sake,  I 
was  trying  my  best  to  do,  although  under  high 
pressure  and  wrapped  up  like  a  ball  of  yarn. 

My!  but  this  bit  of  laundry  work  was  there 
with  the  waltz!  So  dreamy,  so  feathery,  I  al- 
most felt  levitated! 

20 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

The  number  being  finished,  I  returned  to  Nell, 
who  told  me  to  return  to  the  enameled,  tattooed, 
do-nothing  flirts  who  call  themselves  the  cream 
of  society  and  have  "400"  worked  in  colors 
across  their  shoulder  blades,  or  on  $  $  $  ap- 
pliqued  gowns.  Here  I  skidooed  to  the  tall  tim- 
bers. That  held  me  for  awhile. 

Billy,  what  do  you  think  of  that  for  the  white 
coat  on  a  man's  spine!  Chilly,  wasn't  it?  This 
female  Indian,  social  butterfly  and  heart 
crusher  literally  pounded  my  Love  Station  to 
pieces  and  pumped  it  full  of  holes.  Before  leav- 
ing the  Norris  Lunch  Station  she  had  called 
me  "darling,"  "dearie,"  and  other  confection- 
ery names  I  never  heard  before  in  all  my  born 
days,  then  deliberately  she  threw  the  wet 
gunny-sack  on  me  after  the  ball.  I  have  had 
the  skidoo  number,  but  it's  NOW37  (up  side 
down),  and  I  was  told  to  peddle  my  papers  on 
some  other  train  hereafter.  As  there  are  no 
trains  in  the  Park,  I  just  fixed  things  with  her 

21 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

in  the  morning  on  the  coach,  and  before  noon 
everything  was  hunky-dory  with  the  goose  on 
the  upper-most  branch. 

Now,  Billy,  to  the  woods  and  fairyland,  for 
I  know  that  you  are  just  dying  in  spots  to 
know  all  about  this  quaint,  queer  but  glorious 
galaxy  of  nature's  wonders.  After  luncheon 
was  served  a,t  the  Station,  we  occupied  our- 
selves in  inspecting  some  of  the  Canons  and 
Geysers,  among  which  may  be  mentioned  the 
Geysers  of  Vixen,  Congress,  Inkstand,  Monarch, 
Pearl,  New  Crater,  and  the  Minute-Man,  which 
by  the  way  reminds  me  of  my  friend  down  in 
York  State,  George  Tone,  who  made  a  life  con- 
tract with  A  Crater  and  who  turned  the  wheels 
of  the  Bed  Mill  with  such  tremendous  success. 

I  forgot  to  tell  you,  Billy,  there  are  some- 
thing like  four  thousand  Hot  Springs,  large  and 
small;  a  hundred  geysers  which  are  active  and 
inactive,  fifty  beautiful  lakes,  ranging  from  the 

magnificent  Yellowstone  to  very  small  lakelets; 

22 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

numberless  rivers  and  creeks  well  stocked  with 
gamy  trout;  several  glorious  canons;  more  than 
one  hundred  purple  peaks  (some  of  them  snow- 
clad) ;  nearly  thirty  waterfalls;  large  herds  of 
deer  (with  horns  and  dears  without  horns),  elk 
and  antelope;  many  black  and  grizzly  Teddies, 
but  few  of  the  cinnamon  variety,  and  a  goodly 
herd  of  bison,  the  American  buffalo.  Of  course, 
Billy,  I  counted  all  these  spots  of  interest  that 
fill  the  soul  with  admiration,  so  you  will  have 
to  let  it  go  at  that.  When  I  got  tired  counting 
them,  Nell  took  up  the  "Count,"  and  that  is 
where  I  made  an  error  in  my  addition,  for  she 
was  holding  hands  with  the  guy  who  had  wind 
protectors  growing  beside  each  ear  and  who 
happened  to  be  from  the  Court  of  St.  James. 

At  the  next  stopping  place  of  interest,  I  just 
chopped  the  little  game  with  Nell  and  the  deu- 
cedly  awkward,  don't-cher-know  gent  from 
across  the  Pond,  by  seating  her  on  the  middle 
seat,  where  he  had  no  show  of  even  a  look  in,  ac- 

23 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

cording  to  the  rules  of  the  paint  and  powder 
brigade. 

This  national  playground  has  magnificent 
hard  roads  for  driving  which  are  sprinkled 
daily  to  keep  the  dust  down — need  sprinkling 
myself  now  as  the  coin  gets  away  from  me  here 
in  bales — almost  blows  away  with  the  other 
dust. 

Say,  Billy,  if  this  pippin  was  with  me  on  the 
gay  White  Way  she  would  surely  block  the 
traffic  and  congest  the  trade.  Wonder  if  it  is 
safe  to  take  her  on  our  return  from  the  Park 
"Down  Broadway"  just  to  cause  the  rubber  to 
snap  in  their  human  peninsulas? 

That  night  I  was  struggling  to  free  myself 
from  strawberry  white  caps  which  gave  me  the 
worst  case  of  internal  asthma  I  ever  had  in  my 
life — my,  but  they  are  bad  for  a  sport.  Billy, 
a  word  to  the  wise  is  sufficient — don't  hit  the 
white  caps  and  expect  to  escape  the  hiccoughs — 
you'll  be  disappointed. 

24 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

In  my  hurry  to  tell  of  these  steam  pipes  from 
Hell,  I  almost  overlooked  the  most  noteworthy 
in  this  Basin,  and  which  have  enormous  power 
and  are  rightly  termed  the  '  *  Star  Performers. ' ' 
The  Black  Growler  is  so  named  on  account  of 
the  "sage-brushers"  rushing  the  can  for  wash- 
ing purposes  and  the  Hurricane  from  the  loud 
noise  resembling  the  rushing  of  winds. 

The  coach  in  the  afternoon  threaded  the  beau- 
tiful Gibbon  Gallon  as  the  road  followed  the 
windings  of  the  Gibbon  River,  and  after  cross- 
ing a  divide,  continued  beside  the  Firehole  to 
the  Lower  Geyser  Basin.  We  passed  on  this 
ride  Beryl  Spring;  Falls  of  the  Gibbon  (eighty 
feet  high),  and  Cascades  of  the  Firehole  River. 
In  these  rocky  palisades  and  timbered  slopes 
there  is  a  feast  for  the  soul.  The  Midway  and 
Lower  Geyser  Basins  contain  the  Fountain, 
Great  Fountain,  Clepsydra,  Steady,  Black  War- 
rior and  White  Dome  Geysers;  Firehole  Lake; 
Surprise,  Mushroom,  Buffalo,  Five  Sisters  (to 

25 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

whom  no  one  has  ever  received  an  introduction) 
and  many  other  spit-fire  springs.  Here  the 
mammoth  Paint  Pots — cauldrons  of  boiling  hot 
clay  which  are  beautifully  colored  with  all  the 
tints  of  the  rainbow — are  located,  and  the 
women  "take  to  them"  naturally  for  their  col- 
oring properties,  and  get  burnt  for  monkeying 
with  nature's  toilet  articles.  Excelsior  Geyser 
has  been  quiet  for  years,  but  its  crater  is  still 
there.  Prismatic  Lake,  Hell's  Half  Acre  and 
Turquoise  Pool  at  the  Midway  must  be  men- 
tioned also  as  points  of  worthy  interest.  The 
lake  is  the  most  beautifully  colored  spring  in 
the  Park,  sending  up  clouds  of  steam  from  its 
surface  day  and  night;  it  is  very  shallow  and 
about  two  hundred  and  fifty  feet  wide.  Here 
we  put  in  a  very  comfortable  night's  rest  prior 
to  reaching  the  Upper  Geyser  Basin,  where  we 
found  ourselves  the  next  day. 

Yours  as  ever, 

Ben  Boston. 

26 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

Old  Faithful  Inn,  Upper  Geyser  Basin, 

August  3rd,  190—. 
Dear  Billy  :- 

Here's  where  and  how  it  all  happened  and  the 
blink  put  on  my  crimson  sunsets  in  the  home 
for  natural  vaudeville.  This  down-East  whirl- 
wind loaded  with  beauty,  pride  and  dignity— 
which,  by  the  way,  are  characteristics  of  all 
female  Yankees — was  graceful  of  carriage,  de- 
mure and  quiet,  and  gave  no  immediate  signs 
of  balking  and  in  no  way  even  suggested  latent 
possibilities  of  ever  jumping  the  traces. 

I  soon  stamped  her  my  heart's  ease  during 
the  few  days  among  the  bears  and  geysers.  You 
would  hold  your  breath,  Billy,  at  the  wonderful 
play  of  her  features,  and  as  her  lustrous  eyes 
sparkled  and  glistened  beneath  her  daintily 
penciled  brows— her  red  lips,  now  pursed  up, 
now  in  a  half  pout,  were  tantalizingly  tempting, 
while  her  latticed  fronts  rose  and  fell  with  the 
play  of  her  emotions.  I  fell  into  a  regular  old- 
fashioned  love  spasm  over  this  Bean-town  prod- 

29 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

uct  with  the  brown  orbs,  who  wore  a  champagne 
Eton  that  must  have  been  moulded  to  her 
curves;  a  beaut  of  a  golf  skirt,  and  suede  slip- 
pers of  brown  with  brass  buckles  and  wide  silk 
laces  to  match.  Those  pedals  of  hers  with 
arched  insteps  supported  by  16-8  heels  on  an 
"A"  last  were  perfect  dreams!  These  stunning 
creations  "took  the  eye"  of  every  one  at  the 
hotel.  They  had  me. 

Just  a  word  about  this  quaint  hotel,  which  is 
built  entirely  of  logs,  and  of  its  kind  the  largest 
in  the  world.  Billy,  it  is  a  massive  and  impos- 
ing piece  of  wood-craft,  beautiful  and  harmon- 
ious in  all  of  its  details;  electric  lighted  and 
heated  with  steam,  while  many  of  its  rooms  are 
fitted  with  both  hot  and  cold  water  and  private 
baths.  The  surrounding  forests  supplied  the 
logs  for  its  walls,  while  the  interior  decorations 
were  artistically  made  from  twisted  and  gnarled 
limbs  and  tree  stumps.  Old  Faithful  Inn  is 
about  nine  miles  from  the  Fountain  Hotel,  oc- 
cupying a  commanding  view  on  high  ground  at 

31 


OLD  FAITHFUL  GEYSER 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

the  extreme  southern  edge  of  the  Upper  Geyser 
Basin,  and  it  stands  alone  among  the  most  nota- 
ble hotel  resorts  of  this  country.  But  a  short 
distance  from  the  Inn,  and  at  regular  intervals 
of  sixty  to  seventy  minutes,  Old  Faithful  belches 
forth  its  clouds  of  steam  and  boiling  water  to  a 
height  of  one  hundred  feet.  On  this  steam  jet 
at  night  time  a  monster  searchlight  is  flashed 
with  an  effect  that  is  gorgeous  in  the  extreme. 
Among  the  lesser  geysers  of  this  Upper  Basin, 
but  none  the  less  beautiful,  may  be  mentioned 
the  Giant  and  Giantess,  Lion  and  Lioness, 
Grand,  Beehive,  Splendid  and  Riverside,  Ob- 
long, Sawmill,  Economic,  Fan  and  Turban.  Em- 
erald Pool,  while  not  a  geyser,  is  named  from 
the  color  of  its  waters  and  is  an  interesting  spot 
to  everyone. 

Well,.  Billy,  you  should  have  been  an  eye  and 
ear  witness  to  what  was  said  and  done  that 
night  while  seated  around  the  brink  of  Old 
Faithful.  It  was  rich,  sublime  and  ridiculous! 
To  make  matters  worse,  we  were  caught  in  the 

33 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

act  of  kissing  each  other  when  the  operator  in 
charge  of  the  machine  on  the  roof  of  the  Inn 
sent  a  dazzling  flash  of  light  upon  Old  Faithful 
while  she  was  in  a  state  of  eruption.  Nell  near- 
ly had  a  fit  when  she  learned  of  the  fact  that 
we  had  been  discovered.  I  soon  quieted  her 
nerves  and  allayed  her  restless  feelings,  how- 
ever, as  I  looked  this  shirtwaist  square  in  the 
face  and  told  her  without  a  wince  that  I  loved 
her  with  the  genuine  Florentine  frenzy. 

"Oh,  fluff!"  she  replied,  and  with  her  eyes 
said  skidoo,  meaning  this  was  so  sudden. 

' '  I  mean  every  word  of  it,  Nell,  and  as  long  as 
I  have  ivy  clinging  to  my  towers  you  can  have 
all  of  it  you  want, ' '  whereupon  this  dainty  bun- 
dle of  sweetness  threw  her  arms  around  my  neck 
and  planted  two  kisses  in  succession  on  my 
cherry  reds,  when  without  warning  the  flash- 
light revealed  to  those  guests  at  the  Inn  for  the 
second  time  our  doings  around  Old  Faithful. 
That  night  sealed  my  fate  with  Nell.  Had  I 
gotten  the  righteous  kick  at  the  right  time,  in 

34 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

the  right  place  from  the  right  person  I  would 
have  then  considered  the  act  a  saving  grace. 
However,  it  didn't  come,  and  that  accounts  for 
the  absence  of  the  blink  on  the  twilights  now. 
I  told  her  I  had  an  insane  desire  to  make  a  life 
contract  because  her  ways  were  so  irresistible. 
Billy,  take  my  hunch — beware  of  female  whirl- 
pools— there  is  always  an  undercurrent  that  is 
so  treacherous  that  it  often  dashes  one  on  the 
rocks  and  fills  his  pipes  with  water.  Well,  I 
got  it  and  am  still.  Oh!  what  a  cruel  sentence 
to  impose  on  one's  self  needlessly — one  who  is 
so  unsuspecting  and  inexperienced,  virtually 
selecting  that  particular  night  in  such  a  ro- 
mantic way  to  noose  myself  and  to  put  the  drag 
on  all  future  outings. 

Nell  was  a  graceful  spender  of  my  mazuma 
while  in  the  park,  wanting  everything  and  kind 
of  curio  that  she  came  across,  making  me  look, 
at  times,  like  the  human  parcel  delivery. 
First  it  was  Indian  baskets,  then  Indian 
blankets,  Indian  moccasins,  until  she  had  me 

35 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

dancing  like  an  Indian  for  fear  of  her  wants 
not  being  supplied.  I  forgot  to  tell  you,  Billy, 
that  when  this  pipe  dream  had  her  enameled 
face  close  to  mine,  I  made  the  discovery  that  it 
was  windproof  and  impervious  to  heat  or  cold 
and  that  the  regular  little  black  square  was  sta- 
tioned closely  to  her  right  eye  and  just  above 
a  dainty  dimple  in  her  rosy  cheek.  Her  lux- 
uriant head  of  chestnut  brown  hair  had  me  go- 
ing south  towards  the  mocking-birds.  Frankly 
and  freely  I  confess  I  lost  no  time  in  asking  for 
enough  of  it  to  make  a  chain,  and  what  do  you 
think!  She  delivered  the  goods — that  can  be 
proven  never  grew  under  a  guarantee.  I  told 
her  it  was  such  a  shame  to  cut  off  those  lovely 
strands,  but  she  said,  "No,"  they  would  look 
cute  on  me.  I'm  still  wearing  that  chain,  but 
the  cuteness  and  charm  have  all  worn  off.  I 
wonder  why? 

After  the  scene  at  the  brink  of  Old  Faithful 
came  the  eats,  and  that's  where  I  had  another 
jolt  and  lemon  handed  to  me.  Finding  places 

36 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

for  ourselves  in  a  quiet  corner,  I  continued  the 
piping.  Nell  soon  licked  up  a  few  cordials, 
while  Mamie  Taylors  with  collars  on  held  me 
for  a  while,  at  least  until  the  love  vapor  had  me 
trailing  for  keeps.  It  was  the  run  of  my  life 
to  keep  up  the  pace  that  kills  which  I  had  start- 
ed and  could  not  stop  for  fear  of  being  called  a 
dead  one  by  this  study,  and  to  stand  strong  in 
the  center  of  her  cardiac  I  was  compelled  to 
shove  out  the  milled  eagles  frequently. 

Afloat  and  above  suspicion,  *$  was  getting 
along  great  and  without  a  hitch,  with  all  the 
longitude  between  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific 
Oceans  in  my  favor,  for  the  reason  of  the  cord- 
ials. AVe  were  now  using  the  same  napkin 
and  sitting  on  the  same  chair,  utterly  uncon- 
scious of  the  fact  that  the  waiter  had  left  the 
door  ajar  for  all  of  the  dummies  to  get  next  to 
the  doings  inside.  Toasted  to  a  turn  in  that 
crucible,  my  endurance  fagged  and  my  wind 
failed  me.  Here  the  Bridge  of  Sighs  broke 
down  and  I  fell  into  the  creek;  then  the  splash- 

37 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

ing  of  the  waves  began.  "Nell,"  I  said, 
"there's  rats  in  your  garret;  why  don't  you 
kill  'em?"  Instantly  she  swelled  up  like  a 
human  yeast  cake,  squared  her  shoulders, 
flashed  her  fiery  lamps  in  my  direction  and  told 
me  my  number  was  23,  and  to  shift  my  freight 
to  the  opposite  side  of  the  table.  Incidentally 
she  added  for  my  information  that  I  might  con- 
sider the  engagement  broken  and  myself  dis- 
missed from  the  service,  as  I  was  not  up-to-date, 
because  I  ha<8  the  audacity  to  refuse  her  a 
cigarette  and  an  occasional  bottle  of  the  spark- 
ling effervescence. 

Billy,  she  was  laced  so  stiff  and  tight  (both 
ways)  that,  on  the  level,  she  absolutely  refuse*! 
to  listen  to  my  pleadings.  Why,  the  stays 
would  not  even  bend !  No  wonder  I  was  thrown 
down.  I  soon  found  that  this  tickling  sensation 
a,t  the  bottom  of  the  pumping  station  which 
could  not  be  reached  and  scratched,  was  not 
what  it  is  cracked  up  to  be,  but  on  the  drop,  a 

delusion  and  nightmare.     Had  me  chasing  colts. 

38 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

On  this  nifty  female  I  sowed  my  wild  oats  m 
a  wild  and  picturesque  country,  and  the  seeds 
of  wisdom  I  now  have  safely  stored  away 
in  my  vaults  of  experience  as  "ready  refer- 
ence" for  my  friends  who  are  unsuspectingly 
led  into  any  painted  beaut's  steel  trap.  My  ad- 
vice to  the  "lovelorn"  is  to  take  to  the  bunch 
grass  and  tanks  and  hide  for  the  rest  of  their 
days. .  That  night  I  had  cracked  ice  in  a  towel 
on  my  head  as  a  "soother."  Say,  Billy,  have 
you  ever  taken  the  ice  route  for  relief!  It's 
great!  But  no  more  of  it  for  me.  I've  had  a 
complete  cure  and  I  soon  won't  have  to  tell  how 
madly  I  love  her  until  I'm  black  in  the  face. 
Nell  is  in  a  nasty  humor  to-night,  so  I  guess  I'll 
make  for  the  hay. 

Yours  as  ever, 

Ben  Boston. 


39 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

Lake  Colonial  Hotel,  Yellowstone  Lake, 

August  4th,  190—. 
Dear  Billy:— 

Bright  and  early  the  next  morning  at  eight 
o  'clock  we  were  off  for  the  lake — our  heads  rid 
of  all  disturbances  of  the  night  before  and  our 
spirits  aglee.  I  thought  Nell  was  going  to  choke 
the  sunshine  from  me,  but  she  came  through  all 
right  and  the  dark  memories  floated  away  on 
the  air  like  mist  long  before  we  reached  the 
West  Arm  Lunch  Station. 

Turning  our  backs  on  the  Upper  Basin  with 
regret,  still  it  left  our  souls  full  of  delightful 
memories  as  we  passed  the  Keppler  Cascades 
and  crossed  the  great  Continental  Divide  twice 
at  an  elevation  of  eight  thousand  three  hundred 
feet.  This  wild,  exhilarating  mountain  ride  was 
enchanting — it  was  not  a  fantasy  filled  with  fly- 
ing fairies  and  other  woodland  surprises,  but 
the  real  thing  that  made  every  heart  fill  and 
thrill  with  delight — the  natural  resting  place  for 

41 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

the  beauty  and  the  beast.  Shoshone  Point, 
where  we  had  a  magnificent  view  embracing 
Shoshone  Lake  and  the  Three  Tetons  (the  lat- 
ter many  miles  away  and  clad  in  white  gowns 
the  whole  year  round),  impresses  one  with  their 
solemn  grandeur  as  they  silently  reign  supreme 
in  their  majesty,  fourteen  thousand  feet  high. 

Nestled  among  these  forest-crowned  hills 
which  surrounded  our  view  on  all  sides  lay  this 
beautiful  inland  sea — Yellowstone  Lake — a 
most  picturesque  and  noble  body  of  water  about 
seven  thousand  eight  hundred  feet  above  sea 
level — and  noted  for  its  salmon  trout. 

The  outlook  up  this  lake,  which  is  twenty 
miles  long,  with  an  average  depth  of  thirty  feet, 
is  one  that  stirs  the  emotions.  The  waters  rip- 
ple and  shimmer  as  they  are  hemmed  in  on  the 
East  by  the  Absaroka  Eange,  extending  the  en- 
tire length  of  this  placid  body  of  water,  while  to 
the  South  rises  in  its  purple  beauty  and  splen- 
dor— Mount  Sheridan. 

At  the  Lunch  Station  are  more  of  those  Paint 

42 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

Pots,  Hot  Pools  and  only  one  or  two  small  gey- 
sers, which  are  the  last  of  them,  having  left  the 
geyser  regions  at  the  Upper  Basin. 

At  one-thirty  in  the  afternoon,  when  the  lunch 
was  over,  the  wheels  were  rolling  towards  the 
next  stopping  place  for  the  night,  which  was 
the  Lake  Colonial  Hotel — where  a  swell  dance 
was  given  by  the  society  brigade  that  claimed 
to  be  direct  descendants  of  the  Astabilts  down 
around  Newport.  This  social  pow-wow  remind- 
ed me  of  a  band  of  Apaches  on  the  war  dance, 
who  were  burying  their  tomahawks  into  one  an- 
other on  all  sides.  One  of  these  society  squaws 
threw  her  hatchet  at  me,  wanting  to  lift  my 
scalp,  but  I  saw  it  coming,  so  I  side-stepped  and 
ducked,  letting  some  other  duck  get  it  in  the 
neck — as  is  often  the  case. 

This  " smart  set"  was  out  in  all  of  their  fine- 
ry; real  old  point  lace  and  diamonds  (to  beat 
four  of  a  kind)  and  a-la-subway  gowns  with  the 
big  V  in  the  back;  they  were  like  moving  pic- 

43 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

tures,  while  the  view  from  the  front — well,  I'll 
leave  that  to  your  imagination,  Billy — but  I'll 
gamble  they  had  the  goods.  As  they  advanced 
towards  you  with  the  stony  stare  and  icy  elbow, 
it  certainly  lowered  the  temperature  in  that  im- 
mediate vicinity  for  awhile.  Some  of  those 
rented  sparklers  were  beauties,  and  the  "four- 
flushers"  that  hired  them  for  special  occasions 
at  so  much  per  evening  were  always  in  evidence 
when  the  dance  was  on,  for  the  reason  of  their 
dazzling  and  scintillating  effects. 

The  guys  with  the  plugs  hardly  dared  to 
touch  the  hands  of  these  dainty,  dancing  divini- 
ties (which  were  gloved  in  immaculate  white- 
ness to  their  elbows) ,  for  fear  of  being  '  *  called, ' ' 
if  by  chance  a  trademark  had  been  left  by  one  of 
them. 

One  of  these  idols  of  innocence  gave  every- 
body the  cold  storage  smile  and  the  white  coat, 
but  as  I  turned  on  the  battery  it  soon  had  the 
desired  effect  as  the  brigade  marched  into  the 

44 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

banquet  hall,  where  bottles  with  pretty  colored 
streamers  popped  profusely,  and  the  viands 
were  placed  where  they  would  do  the  most  good. 
In  here  we  could  see  the  "fleet"  in  their  flying 
colors;  some  had  burglar-proof  faces;  some  had 
the  wasp  shape  squeezed  to  the  limit  and  ready 
to  snap  at  the  girdle;  while  others  evened  up 
matters  on  the  pedals  and  had  to  retire  on  the 
pretence  of  feeling  faint,  in  order  to  relieve  the 
pressure. 

I  soon  drew  my  cork  out  of  that  bunch  and 
with  Nell  strolled  down  by  the  lake,  which  was 
reflecting  the  moonlight  with  its  shining  waves 
of  silver.  It  was  a  glorious  sight!  The  queen 
of  night  shone  in  all  of  her  beauty,  while  the 
Constellation  and  the  Pleiades  shot  their  twin- 
kling messages  across  the  firmament.  Togeth- 
er we  admired  the  lake,  the  moon,  the  scenery, 
voicing  the  same  sentiments  at  every  turn  of 
the  wheel,  and  before  I  was  aware  of  the  fact 
this  candy  girl,  a  graduate  of  the  Emersonian 

45 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

School  of  Expression,  had  me  wrapped  up  like  a 
ball  of  yarn  and  under  high  pressure.  I  was 
dangling  at  the  end  of  the  rope,  and  at  the  next 
oasis  of  the  caravan  I  was  roped — and  am  still 
holding  on  to  the  rope. 

At  this  particular  spot  in  the  beautiful  valley 
of  the  Yellowstone,  I  shot  the  bunk  thick  and 
fast  towards  the  object  of  my  affections,  and 
what  do  you  think,  Billy  1  The  girl  with  "the 
bucks"  whose  father  was  long  on  Union  Pacific 
Common  and  Convertible  4's,  piped  "Yes"  and 
closed  the  deal.  I  was  in  for  the  market  on 
these  4's  later — and  a  sweet  dream  from  which 
I  shortly  awoke. 

The  beautiful  and  thoroughly  remodeled  Co- 
lonial Hotel  is  handsomely  fitted  and  "home- 
like, ' '  overlooking  Yellowstone  Lake,  and  from 
its  veranda  the  Tetons  can  be  seen  in  the  dis- 
tance. Its  colonial  front  and  large  columned 
porches  at  each  end  and  center  give  an  impos- 
ing and  stately  appearance  that  is  most  restful. 

46 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

That  night  Nell  and  I  decided  we  would 
thrash  it  out  together  and  it  was  all  cut  and 
dried  to  spring  on  the  bunch  at  the  Grand  Canon 
Hotel  the  following  evening.  Good  night, 
Billy,  my  blood's  hot.  I  wonder  if  the  moon 
could  have  caused  it? 

Yours  as  ever, 

Ben  Boston. 


47 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

Grand  Caiion  Hotel,  Point  Lookout, 

August  5th,  190—. 
Dear  Billy :- 

This  is  the  last  hotel  on  the  circuit,  occupying 
a  beautiful  site  a  short  way  from  the  brink  of 
the  Grand  Gorge,  through  which  the  Yellow- 
stone itself  flows. 

About  half  way  between  the  Yellowstone 
Lake  and  the  Grand  Caiion  the  road  passes 
through  one  of  the  "  freakish "  areas  of  the 
Park.  It  is  repulsive,  yet  fascinating,  and 
causes  the  curious  tourist  to  stop  and  rubber. 
Mud  volcano  (sometimes "called  Mud  Geyser),  I 
learned  from  the  driver,  was  quite  active  years 
ago,  expelling  mud  to  a  tremendous  height,  and 
in  all  directions,  making  it  very  dangerous  to 
approach,  but  of  late  years  the  phenomena  have 
not  appeared. 

To  the  left  of  this  extinct  mud  chimney,  in  a 
shallow  ravine  below,  is  the  beautiful  Gothic 
Grotto.  Here  the  road  crosses  the  Hayden  Val- 

49 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

ley,  giving  us  a  grand  view  of  the  Northern  Pa- 
cific trademark  formed  by  strange  convolutions 
of  nature  in  Trout  Creek. 

Centering  to  and  about  Grand  Canon  is  the 
climax  of  wonders — the  culminating  glory  of 
the  Yellowstone.  Words  are  totally  inadequate 
to  extol  their  grandeur,  tongues  are  speechless 
in  the  presence  of  nature's  immensities.  We 
stood  spellbound,  dumb,  but  filled  with  solem- 
nity and  veneration  as  the  river  plunges  per- 
pendicularly three  hundred  feet  or  more  into  a 
gloomy  cavern  below — that  ever  received  so  ma- 
jestic a  visitant. 

At  the  edge  of  the  precipice,  the  river,  with  a 
gurgling,  choking,  seething  struggle,  leaps  with 
one  bound  into  the  tremendous  chasm.  Then 
the  fall  between  jaws  of  rock  leaping  and  plung- 
ing six  hundred  feet,  where  it  is  enveloped  in 
mist  and  woven  into  rainbows  that  arch  the  face 
of  the  cataract  in  all  colors  of  the  prism. 

The   aqueous   and   atmospheric  forces  have 

50 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

carved  towers  and  domes,  castles,  turrets  and 
spiral  columns,  together  with  deep  caverns  and 
gloomy  chambers.  Nature — the  great  architect 
and  artist — here  her  immense  escarpments, 
gorgeously  portrayed  in  every  conceivable 
color,  at  last  blend  harmoniously  into  solemn 
grandeur  and  beauty,  completely  captivating 
and  overwhelming  the  mind,  which  is  lost  by  the 
fascinations  of  the  flaming  gorge.  Grand  Cailon 
of  the  Yellowstone  combines  grandeur  and  im- 
mensity. Its  shelving  summits  girted  with 
trees,  from  its  wild  promontories  you  can  look 
into  the  depths  of  Hell.  With  the  memory  con- 
fused, the  lips  locked  in  silence,  this  amazing 
scene  of  colors  and  sculptured  rocks  is  pro- 
foundly impressed  upon  the  soul. 

The  golden  sunlight  bursts  down  upon  this 
immense  barrier  of  rocks  in  dazzling  rays  from 
the  blue  ethereal  vaults  of  heaven,  while  the 
imprisoned  walls  reflect  and  melt  it  into  a  flood 
of  amber,  mellow  light,  and  the  glorious  sur- 

51 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

roundings  give  forth  the  warmest,  kindliest 
smiles  of  nature. 

In  this  marvelous  gorge  nature  culminated 
her  handiwork  of  sculpture  and  color  glory, 
and  as  it  lingers  in  my  memory  like  the  outlines 
of  a  dream  I  simply  stand  with  hands  clasped 
and  eyes  up-turned  toward  the  limitless  expanse 
and  say :  * '  Amen. ' ' 

Billy,  I'll  send  you  the  brand  I  have  been 
smoking  in  the  Park  as  soon  as  I  reach  Gard- 
iner— it's  a  fine  cut  that  can  be  had  only  by 
going  through  this  Wonderland  for  yourself. 
Speaking  of  fine  cuts,  Billy,  did  I  ever  tell  you 
how  fond  of  them  I  am  at  the  hotels,  where  the 
outside  cut  is  always  given  to  me  because  it's 
well  done;  and,  so  am  I  for  the  rest  of  life's  pil- 
grimage. 

The  happy  hit  came  off  this  evening  at  nine 
o'clock  and  the  rope  spliced — the  one  that 
dangled  in  front  of  me  at  the  Colonial — while 
the  life  contract  was  handed  to  me  by  a  minister 

52 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

from  New  Hampshire  who  happened  to  be  so- 
journing at  this  hotel  for  a  few  days.  The  event 
of  our  lives  was  pulled  off  quietly  and  without 
ostentation — that  means  we  were  able  to  pay  the 
preacher  for  the  splicing  act. 

My  wad  of  green  had  so  dwindled  I  tried  to 
work  the  gag  on  the  clerk  at  the  hotel  by  telling 
him  that  I  had  been  "touched."  Billy,  have 
you  ever  been  touched?  Nice  business,  eh? 
Well,  the  score  keeper  behind  the  counter  gave 
me  the  glassy  stare,  at  the  same  time  flashing 
a  card  under  my  nose  that  told  of  delinquent  or 
star  guests  at  the  hotel.  One  said:  "I'll  pay 
Saturday  night  sure  if  I  live. "  He's  dead.  An- 
other said :  ' '  See  you  tomorrow. "  He 's  blind. 
Still  another,  * '  I  hope  to  pay  this  week  or  go  to 
hell."  He's  gone. 

Our  stay  at  the  Grand  Cailon  Hotel  was  the 
real  essence  of  the  clover  blossom — full  of  the 
nectar  that  fills  the  cup  or  like  Omar  with  his 
little  brown  jug — no  cans  in  his  time — a  slice  of 

53 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

bread  and  a  beautiful  damsel  to  sing  for  him  at 
his  pleasure,  to  chase  the  growler  for  the  suds 
and  to  hold  the  cup  at  the  brink!  Say,  Billy, 
wonder  if  this  is  the  same  brink!  I  believe  it 
is,  for  something  seems  to  whisper  to  me  that 
the  longest  thing  in  married  life  is  a  loveless 
pilgrimage,  and  when  one  meets  the  wants  of 
the  other  then  each  is  suspicious  of  the  other, 
because  loving  a  few  good  women  is  real  pleas- 
ure; loving  a  few  of  the  others  is  real  pain;  lov- 
ing your  wife — the  right  woman — is  half  and 
half.  Billy,  my  advice  is  not  to  get  too  much 
of  the  latter — then  you're  safe.  The  good  wom- 
an is  a  blessing,  God  bless  her,  but  the  bad  one 
(when  she  reaches  the  lower  level)  is  like  the 
lid  off  Hell,  letting  out  fire  and  brimstone.  Billy, 
be  awful  careful  of  these  human  lids,  for  when 
you  strike  a  hot  one  she's  like  a  volcano— ready 
to  let  go — then  there's  doings.  Good  night — 
I'm  for  the  sleeps. 

Yours  as  ever, 

Ben  Boston. 


54 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

Mount  Washburn,  Above  the  Clouds, 

August  6th,  190—. 
Dear  Billy  :- 

Next  door  to  heaven  today,  but  could  not  get 
in;  great  consternation  prevailed  within  us 
when  Nell  and  myself  received  the  cold  should 
er  on  the  summit  of  Mount  Washburn,  the  alti- 
tude of  which  is  ten  thousand  feet,  and  carpeted 
in  white. 

What  a  grand  panoramic  or  bird's-eye  view 
we  had  from  this  silent  sentinel  of  the  Park;  it 
is  truly  marvelous,  giving  to  each  of  us  a  con- 
nected and  accurate  idea  of  the  region  between 
the  Mammoth  Hot  Springs — our  starting  point 
—and  the  great  and  beautiful  lake  itself — just 
like  an  open  book.  After  drinking  in  these 
gifts  of  the  gods,  we  covered  the  ten  miles  back 
to  the  hotel  by  way  of  "Uncle  Tom's  Trail," 
and  then  for  a  farewell  look  from  Inspiration 
Point  at  the  culminating  and  most  magnificent 
spot  in  nature's  album. 

Here  the  yellow,  the  gray  and  the  brown  pre- 
dominate in  the  rocks,  while  above  is  the  azure 

55 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

blue  and  below  a  carpet  of  green.  Such  a  com- 
mingling of  colors  no  artist  can  paint ;  no  tongue 
describe,  yet  speak  as  it  must  in  silence  to  the 
soul,  where  it  sears  upon  the  tablets  of  memory 
these  flaming  words:  YELLOWSTONE  the 
MASTERPIECE  of  all  that  is  sublime  and 
beautiful. 

Billy,  since  receiving  the  life  sentence  and 
dropping  my  little  in  the  good  of  the  cause, 
Nell  gave  up  her  new  fangled  ideas  and  decided 
upon  a  quick  get-away  in  the  morning.  Of 
course,  some  of  her  phony  ideas  had  to  be  ex- 
tracted, yet  she's  the  big  squeal  with  me,  and 
when  she  says,  "Lay  down,  roll  over  and  play 
dead,  dearie,"  why  of  course  I  just  roll — and 
if  you  ever  get  caught  by  a  wringer,  Billy, 
you'll  do  the  same  thing — get  this  into  your 
coco,  for  when  once  quarantined  around  the  car- 
diac and  trailing  for  a  fancy  dame,  you  will  play 
the  deuce  instead  of  the  ace  in  the  game  of 
hearts  every  time. 

Each  jolt  I  received  on  my  way  through  life's 
vale  of  tears  up  to  and  including  the  last  one 

56 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL 

I  have  used  as  a  peg  on  which  to  hang  up  my  ex- 
periences— but  for  the  sake  of  peace — with  Nell 
I  do  not  label  them. 

The  next  morning  bright  and  early  we  left 
the  Grand  Canon  cf  the  Yellowstone  and  the 
Land  of  Geysers  for  Gardiner,  passing  by  Beds 
of  Solfatara  and  close  to  the  Wedded  Trees,  and 
the  Virginia  Cascades.  Arrived  at  Norris  on 
time,  where  lunch  was  served,  after  which  the 
Concord  was  on  its  way  back  to  the  starting 
point — Mammoth  Hot  Springs  Hotel — and  with 
the  greatest  reluctance  and  regret  we  turned 
our  backs  upon  the  most  inspiring  scenes  in 
nature. 

Last  night  Nell  was  so  bright  and  cheerful, 
full  of  hope  and  what  she  would  do  when  she 
reached  her  journey's  end,  while  I  was  lacking 
in  repose.  The  * '  bucks ' '  had  quit  their  jingling 
in  my  pockets;  the  ice  route  as  a  last  resort  was 
supplanting  the  Mamie  Taylors,  and  putting  the 
chill  on  my  preserved  sense  of  humor,  which 
was  canned  later,  or  else  I  was  free  to  go  my 
way,  One  of  her  resolves  was  to  lay  aside  the 

57 


KHE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

enameled  mask,  the  powder  and  the  rag.  Her 
bou-tons,  which  created  the  wasp  curves,  were 
to  give  way  for  others  more  sensible  which  gave 
the  stays  a  chance  to  bend. 

When  the  soft  velvet  curtains  of  night  fell 
upon  us  on  our  way  up  from  Cinnabar,  Billy,  I 
felt  like  the  big  king  in  a  new  deck  just  hatched 
in  the  incubator  of  love.  That  night  I  had 
"dreams"  of  a  twentieth  century  convulsion 
or  family  earthquake — was  the  train  off  the 
track  or  had  I  crawled  into  the  wrong  berth? 
Have  not  yet  found  out  the  reason  for  those 
early  presentiments. 

Today  I've  got  the  blues,  headache,  and  I'm 
homesick.  What  causes  such  a  combination,  or 
is  this  experience  traveling  towards  you,  Billy? 

It  was  decided  aboard  the  train  that  we  would 
go  flatting  for  a  while  in  the  White  City  or 
Schlitzville,  and  that 's  where  the  brain-storm  in 
my  dream  began  to  brew — it  seemed  as  if  it 
lasted  several  years  before  the  big  black  clouds 
broke  upon  our  domestic  felicity;  then  it  was 
like  those  pipes  from  Hell  in  the  Park — bursting 
forth  in  their  wrath  and  fury,  quieting  down  for 

58 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE 

a  while,  then  repeating  themselves  again  at  ir- 
regular intervals.  Billy,  if  yours-to-be  ever 
acts  like  a  human  volcano,  just  take  to  the 
double  tracked  roadbed,  or  the  tall  timbers,  and 
never  let  your  wife,  or  any  other  wife,  whip-saw 
you,  as  the  results  are  too  disastrous  to  mention. 
If  there  is  a  convenient  fire-escape  take  to  it  and 
avoid  complications,  unless  you  wish  to  be 
pickled  in  perfume  a-la  Osier. 

Billy,  the  coils  and  fuses  in  the  love  battery 
are  broken — the  human  love  furnace  has  grown 
cold  and  the  great  game  of  billiards  is  dull  and 
uninteresting.  It  seems  as  if  I  really  have  been 
Oslerized — or  the  knock-out  drops  handed  to 
me  by  this  $$$  appliqued  artist  from  the  Hub. 

The  green  lithographs,  in  bales,  are  no'  more 
in  evidence,  and  I  feel  like  the  label  on  the  bot- 
tle— on  the  outside — not  in  it.  However,  I  have 
just  enough  of  them  left  for  one  more  hunting 
trip  which  will  be  a  "still  hunt"  for  large  game. 
Whether  ahead  of  the  season  or  not,  I'm  going 
gunning — I'm  loaded  for  bear  and  a  good  sup- 
ply of  the  red  coffin  varnish. 

The  Oil  of  Joy  bums  defeat  from  the  memory 

59 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

and  helps  us  forget  our  troubles  when  the  wick 
is  burning  low.  Mine  needs  trimming,  Billy,  or 
do  you  think  it  has  been  trimmed  enough! 

From  the  snowy  summit  of  Mount  Washburn 
to  the  gloomy  caverns  of  Hell  has  been  the  ex- 
tremes through  which  this  shattered  idol  of 
beauty  has  drawn  and  quartered  my  very  heart ; 
boiled  the  milk  of  human  kindness  until 
scorched  by  the  hot  flames  of  ingratitude,  which 
when  cooled  left  the  cup  of  life  filled  with  re- 
gret. Introspectively  it's  like  fairyland,  but 
retrospectively  it's  Hell  jarred  loose  from  its 
foundations.  Whether  jagged,  jarred  or  jilted 
makes  no  difference  with  me  now — I  need  the 
money,  and  that  is  my  game  in  the  race  with 
death,  and  it's  one  to  the  finish — if  short, 
why  then  a  merry  one — and  but  few  checks  to 
count  at  the  final  cash  in.  The  slate  is  now 
sponged  and  the  track  clear  for  a  fast  race,  with 
the  odds — in  whose  favor? 

At  The  Mines. 

Nell  and  I  had  come  to  the  "parting  of  the 
ways" — she  going  to  her  folks  down  East,  while 
I  took  to  the  mines  in  the  West,  where  after  a 

60 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

few  short  months  of  wrestling  with  dame  for- 
tune, she  at  last  smiled  upon  me,  and  I  found 
myself  the  owner  of  a  rich  gold  mine  which  was 
accidentally  discovered  by  my  prospector, 
whom  I  had  grubstaked  at  so  much  a  month  and 
an  interest  in  the  property.  The  only  compan- 
ion to  this  wanderer  of  the  desert  was  a  burro, 
"And  her  name  was  Maud."  At  night  these 
night-in-gales  of  the  wild  rend  the  air  with  their 
shrill  hee-haws  until  the  forlorn  and  dusty  man 
with  the  pick  is  compelled  to  arise  and  silence 
them. 

A  strange  feeling  of  loneliness  comes  o'er  me, 
Billy,  and  it's  tinged  with  sadness.  Wonder 
(and  that's  the  name  of  the  camp)  if  the  girl 
Nell  is  thinking  of  me?  Guess  I'll  drop  her  a 
line  and  send  her  one  of  the  beautiful  nuggets 
found  on  the  property  and  a  picture  of  myself  as 
I  look  at  the  mines.  Our  quarrel  was  a  lover's 
quarrel,  Billy,  like  many  another,  and  here  I  am 
well  heeled  once  more  and  no  one  to  share  it 
with  me. 

The  old  Overland  stage  was  heavily  loaded 
with  mail  and  arrived  twice  a  week.  In  it  was 

61 


THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE  AND  THE  GIRL. 

a  letter  from  Nell.  My  heart  leaped  to  my  throat 
as  I  opened  it  and  Tead:  "All  is  forgiven; 
I  love  you,  dear,  more  than  ever."  Nell  said 
she  is  looking  for  me  every  day,  so  I  suppose 
I  '11  go  East  and  get  her.  The  sunshine  of  glad- 
ness will  then  beam  upon  me  once  again,  and 
now  that  the  silver  lining  of  those  black  clouds 
shines  for  us,  it  is  my  fervent  wish  that  they 
never  gather  again  to  dispel  the  sunlight  of  our 
home  and  the  happiness  in  our  hearts. 

Billy,  it's  almost  two  years  since  that  wind- 
storm occurred,  now  it  is  all  calm  and  peace,  ex- 
cept where  our  little  one — I  forgot  to  tell  you 
that  we  have  a  lively  bundle  of  sunshine  four 
months  old — the  cutest,  brightest  and  "the 
only"  boy  among  the  Bockies.  His  name  is  jusl: 
plain  "Ted"— no  fancy  labels  yet  until  he 
gets  his  diplomas  for  them. 

And  now  the  home  is  complete,  and  when  you 
come  to  visit  us,  Billy,  you  will  find  plenty  of 
sunshine,  happiness  and  welcome  in  our  home 
to  greet  you.  Good-bye. 

Yours  as  ever, 

Ben  Boston. 

62 


